DMHS 84

The area where the goddess’s power had swept through was in disarray. The sacred statue, imbued with destructive force, had toppled over and shattered into pieces.

Instead of cleaning up the site, people moved deeper into the temple. Finally, they reached the chapel dedicated to the God of Destruction.

But something had changed noticeably since earlier.

“Lord Bashim, come this way. There’s a hole here.”

The door to the passageway leading to the ‘Heart of Dawn’ headquarters had vanished. Bashim tilted his head in confusion as he surveyed the long, gaping passageway that now opened inward.

“I’ve never seen anything like this before. The Chieftain never mentioned there was a secret space here either.”

His questioning gaze was intensely serious. He didn’t seem to be feigning ignorance.

Kian became certain that Bashim had no connection to the Heart of Dawn.

“I hear voices inside. Shall we go in?”

“Let’s do it.”

Bashim and his men led the way into the passage. The traps set by the magic tools were also crafted with dark magic, having lost their power after being neutralized by holy energy.

The passage, now free of traps, was easy to traverse. Basim’s group and Kian soon emerged into the space connected to the passage on the opposite side. As they surveyed their surroundings, gasps filled with horror escaped their lips.

“Ah…”

“I can’t believe my eyes. Did someone actually attempt to summon a demon here?”

“Demon summoning is forbidden sorcery. They must be punished immediately!”

Those who had followed Bashim appeared to be shamans. They understood the situation instantly from the remaining traces.

The group’s gaze swept over the summoning circle drawn on the floor and settled upon the dais. On the platform, figures cloaked in black robes were bound and restrained. Cardinal Malan stood motionless beside them.

Meeting the crowd’s gaze, Malan offered a gentle smile.

“Late night greeting, indeed. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Malan, faithful servant of the Goddess.”

“Could it be… …the ‘Saint of Salvation,’ Malen?”

An unexpected reaction rippled through the crowd. Malan bowed.

“I am humbled to be called by that name.”

“Then the divine power we witnessed moments ago…?”

“It was mine.”

“And the ones attempting to summon demons…?”

“Indeed.”

Malan answered Bashim’s cautious question in a low voice.

His demeanor was remarkably composed as he nodded with a faint smile. It was as if a halo shone behind him.

Kian felt confused.

‘A saint? The very one who asked to be kept as a pet human?’

Of course, the title of Cardinal was formidable. Yet just as not every duke earned the people’s respect, not every Cardinal was beloved by them.

The title of Saint was reserved only for priests deeply revered by the common folk. One had to be known throughout the kingdom for a gentle, faithful, and benevolent character to become a Saint…

‘Gentle?’

-Enough, enough. I’m not talking to you.

‘Faithful?’

-Oh, come on. Let’s get specific here. You told me a second before my feet even touched the ground.

‘Compassionate?’

-If you feel wronged, come out and argue it. Can’t you? You can’t, can you? Pissed off? Tough luck.

The more he tried to piece together the memory, the more his head ached.

But unlike the flustered Kian, the people who came with Bashim seemed purely excited.

“Wow,!”

“The Saint of Salvation has arrived!”

“O Goddess who prepares for all things! We give thanks for your grace in this chaos!”

Malan smiled gently as he received the crowd’s cheers.

Amidst the softened atmosphere, Malan explained the situation. They had acted on intelligence about an attempt to summon a demon and succeeded in stopping the ritual. Those responsible had been bound and restrained.

Finally, Malan pulled back the cloth covering one side of the platform.

“This is the corpse they intended to use as a sacrifice for the summoning.”

The moment the chieftain’s corpse appeared, the mood changed abruptly.

Tribesmen who had revered the chieftain rolled their eyes in fury. Enraged, they proceeded to strip the robes from the bound figures one by one, who kept their heads bowed.

With each face revealed, cries of anguish mixed with indignation resounded. Some even claimed their blood ran cold.

Finally, Pearl Asif’s face was revealed.

“This one is the mastermind behind this affair. Normally, he should be taken to the Goddess Temple headquarters and brought before the heresy tribunal…”

Bashim interrupted Malan.

“Forgive me, Holy One. We cannot simply let the one who dishonored our chieftain and plunged the entire tribe into crisis go free. Grant us the opportunity to punish him ourselves.”

“That is precisely what I intended to propose. Following protocol would also pose complications for me within the Order. Instead of bringing him to the heresy tribunal, it would be better to execute him according to Delia tribe law.”

“We cannot help but marvel at Your Holiness’s boundless magnanimity. We offer our deepest gratitude.”

The two priests faced each other and bowed in formal greeting.

The remaining matters proceeded swiftly.

Bashim sent Pearl Asif and his group to prison. Those who had accompanied Bashim appeared to be key figures within the Delia tribe, largely unaffiliated with the Heart of Dawn. All voiced their support for Bashim’s decision. With the two contenders for the succession gone, Bashim was now the only one left to handle the affairs.

As people scattered to handle their respective tasks, Kian also moved.

Kian’s return to the cave wasn’t solely out of curiosity about the aftermath. He had one more thing to verify.

‘It’s here too.’

Kian discovered a door connecting to the rear of the Heart of Dawn chapel.

In the parallel world, this led to a cave filled with dolls.

What would this place hold?

His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. Kian turned the doorknob.

“Hmm…”

The door opened into a small prayer room. It was cramped enough that three people would barely fit inside.

The problematic doll was nowhere to be seen.

‘They’re gone.’

For some reason, he felt disappointed. Perhaps he had secretly hoped, as in the parallel world, that he could eliminate Aslan here.

“Are you looking for something?”

Malan, who had appeared beside him, spoke up. Kian closed the door to the empty prayer room and changed the subject.

“Nothing at all. But ‘Saint of Salvation’? What a splendid epithet you have. “

“That’s thanks to everyone seeing the best in me.”

…It wasn’t seeing the best, it was seeing the wrong thing.

Kian swallowed his words and nodded. But Malan, who had saw the fleeting expression, suppressed a smile.

“I received help today. If there’s anything you need, please don’t hesitate to ask anytime.”

Kian promptly voiced his curiosity.

“How much do you know about the ‘Heart of Dawn’?”

“My information is limited. But if you wish, I can compile what I have and send it to you.”

“I’d appreciate that. However, as I’m currently traveling, please send the materials to the Freesia Palace in the royal capital.”

“Understood. I look forward to seeing you again when the opportunity arises.”

Malan prepared to leave immediately after the conversation ended. Kian stopped him.

“Wait a moment. If you don’t specify the recipient, the palace staff will be confused. My name is…”

“I know. You are ‘Yan’.”

Kian stared blankly at Malan at the abrupt remark. The man rubbed his mouth with his palm, then smiled gently.

“Did I get it wrong?”

Kian blinked slowly. Fortunately, his voice remained calm.

“It’s not Yan. It’s Kian. Kian Semes.”

“Ah, right. Yan is a nickname. I’ll send the materials to Sir Kian Semes. I’ll be going now.”

Malan left. Kian watched his retreating figure, unable to hide his unease.

Mallen hadn’t been wrong.

‘Yan is Kian’s nickname.’

But it wasn’t quite right.

“…Well, 1,500 years ago, it was.”

This was due to the shift in pronunciation between ancient and modern times.

In the past, the first syllable of Kian was read as ‘Ki’ or ‘I’. When written as a name, it was pronounced ‘Kian’, but calling it ‘Ian’ still conveyed the meaning.

Ian.

Shortened to Yan.

The nickname Yan originated from there.

In contrast, the first syllable of Kian was no longer pronounced as ‘I’. It had standardized to ‘Ki’.

Naturally, no one called Kian ‘Ian’ anymore. It followed as a natural progression that the nickname Yan faded from the fairly common name Kian.

Now, when people heard “Yan,” they thought of the hero Yan. They didn’t associate the name Yan with Kian.

That wasn’t the only oddity. Looking back, he could find several more suspicious details.

But Kian shook his head.

‘Let’s leave it at that for today.’

From the Delia tribe’s traditional wedding ceremony, through the chaotic banquet, to the present moment, it had been an exhausting schedule in every way.

Kian dragged his heavy body back to his quarters.

Opening the window to enter the room, Lucien lay fast asleep on the bed opposite.

The face sleeping oblivious to the world was a welcome sight. They’d only been apart for a few hours, yet it was a face he’d missed.

Kian perched on the bed and looked at him for a long while. Perhaps it was the potion he’d swallowed still coursing through his veins or something else, his heart beat pleasantly.

Kian’s gaze settled on the lashes clinging to Lucien’s closed eyes.

‘Beautiful.’

It was fascinating how they fluttered up and down with each blink of those large eyes, but the sight of them closed, casting shadows across his cheeks, was even more enchanting. Kian absentmindedly reached out, tempted to touch those lashes.

‘No. I mustn’t wake him while he sleeps so soundly.’

Kian withdrew his hand, calming his heightened emotions. Only after confirming the faint, pale glow of dawn beyond the curtains did he finally settle into bed.

‘May tomorrow be a peaceful day.’

Thus Kian concluded that long day.